


Trick or Treat!

by rxcrcfllptrs



Category: Skydom, Team Crafted
Genre: Alternate Universe, Character Death, M/M, Pokemon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-31
Updated: 2013-11-01
Packaged: 2017-12-31 01:54:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 3,907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1025910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rxcrcfllptrs/pseuds/rxcrcfllptrs
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of fics/drabbles requested over at tumblr.</p>
<p>1: "my trust at the foot of this hill" (skylox, character death)<br/>2: "into the light" (setosolace, no warnings)<br/>3: "don't you let it go" (skymu, no warnings)<br/>4: "just rescue me now" (merome, no warnings)<br/>5: "all that counts is here and now" (skysolace, underage drinking)<br/>6: "explanation for a life half-broken away" (bajanmu, no warnings)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. my trust at the foot of this hill

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song "Dust Bowl Dance" by Mumford and Sons. For claysmilesoil, who requested 'Airplane crash'. Character death warning.

Ty stands on a yellowing field. What it holds is always different. Sometimes it’s corn going dry, wheat waving in the wind, or a sallow sickening yellow enveloping grass - old or new, he can’t tell either.

The air is stale, dry, there’s dust pricking his eyes and his back pocket feels heavy, containing a letter that could make him the happiest or the saddest man in the country. For a few more moments, he observes all the yellows coating the countryside, before he wordlessly takes the envelope and reads the letter.

He blazes through it, afraid that if he actually stays to read, it’ll turn too real and it’ll choke him. He’s not stupid, he can see the thin cut sealed on the bottom of the envelope, he can see the slight water stain on the paper aged for a little while. They think he can’t take the news. And they’re right.

He can’t.

The paper falls to the grass with an unceremonious crunch. He looks down on it with blurred eyes, blurred with tears threatening to drop. Something heavy is weighing down on his chest, and he can smell the rust, the metal, gunpowder.

Ty blinks.

He comes to to the sound of people shouting, but it’s muffled. He can smell the tang of metal, the warmth of the puddle his head was laying on. He can barely breathe, but he can see now. Clearer, people’s feet scurrying outwards, to a direction he can’t see. The heavy weight on his chest is an airplane seat, crushing him.

Amidst the cacophony, he can hear someone shouting his name. “Ty! TY! WHERE’S TY?”

He can barely lift his head, and his vision is blurring again, fading to what seems to be a final black.

"Ty? I found Ty!" he hears, and a few push off the weight. It doesn’t really matter now, not really. Ty flashes a weak smile to the one closest to him.  _Sky_.

"Stay with me, please," Sky’s face is bruised and has a few cuts, and oh, he’s holding his hand. "Please, stay alive, I love you so much," Ty can hear the words echo through his head full of cotton.

The sunlight is in his eyes and he feels like he’s burning.

Ty’s going, and he’s going, and he’s gone.


	2. into the light

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by "The Light" by Sara Bareilles, also Dalton from Glee. For kurumaka.

Seto thinks his life kind of resembles a teen musical. In the very least, that tv show… joy or glee or whatever. It just doesn’t seem like something that would happen in real life!

His group of friends - majority of which are guys in the football team - want him to go to the rival school to spy on their practice sessions.  _Which, in hindsight, I shouldn’t have taken seriously_ , Seto thinks. His friends are also notorious jokesters, but… with a deep exhale, he goes with it anyway. Not much to lose, he can just magick his way out of any trouble. The thought makes him seize up and start listing all the different spells he can use to get out of his situation, it makes him freeze so much that he’s probably already bumped into a few people because of it.

"You alright?" someone asks him, and he remembers where he is now. He’s not in M. Notch Academy. He’s in St. Zoya’s. He’s not wearing navy blue and bright red, he’s wearing deep violet and grey-green.  _Must blend in_ , it repeats over and over in his head like a mantra.

"Yeah, yeah, I’m okay," he murmurs, though the person who asked him must have left ages ago now. The magic-user closes in on himself, head down, the only thing on his mind the directions to the football field.

When Seto arrives, practice hasn’t started yet. There are already people stretching or jogging or whatever athletic thing it is athletes do before these kinds of things, and he tries to keep himself hidden in their stands. It just feels so  _wrong_  being somewhere he isn’t allowed to be, but at the same time, there’s some small part of him that’s saying that he needs to be here. Right here, right now.  _Sounds a bit like a cliche movie line, now_ , he snorts. 

As the minutes tick on, the temperature rises along with the sun in the sky, causing him to shrug off the borrowed blazer onto the bleacher below him. Speaking of the sky, he thinks of his friends now. Maybe they’re wondering where he is, or they’re laughing because they couldn’t believe how gullible he is. His once-peaceful expression twists into a frown. Too caught up in his thoughts, Seto doesn’t notice the new person sitting beside him.

"So," the intrusion of a new voice makes him nearly jump a foot in the air, a deer-caught-in-the-headlights expression on his face. "I haven’t seen you around here before," because Seto’s been looking at his lap, at his twiddling fingers the whole time, he sees the person from bottom to top. Tan skin, thin shirt soaked with sweat, the  _mostfuckingbeautiful_  clear blue eyes he’s ever seen, a friendly face, and tousled blonde hair on top.

Seto has to open and close his mouth a few more times before his voice decides to make itself known. “Um, I-I-we just moved here…?” it comes off more like a question than a statement, and it makes the stranger laugh. “I mean, we just moved here, and my parents wanted me to see what all the schools had to offer. By myself… yeah.”

The stranger’s eyebrows raise. “Interesting,” because he’s paying more attention, he can recognise the foreign accent - British? Australian? - and he’s paying more attention to the other parts of him as well. “Well, if you need any help, you can just look for me,” stranger smiles, and tilts his head to the direction of the field. “Or my brother, if you can notice the difference.”

"Difference?" Seto asks with a furrowed brow.

"Wow, you really are new here," the guy says. "I’m Brice, I’m in the lacrosse team, and my twin, Kynan’s on the football team," at the word, the magic-user’s eyes widen.  _Twins_.  _Wow_.

He nods, slowly accepting the fact. “Um, okay… I guess I can do that. Yeah,” he directs his eyes on the field. He doesn’t want to seem to obvious, but he’s also seeing nothing as his brain is still trying to accept the fact- oh, there’s his twin.  _Okay. That… that’s a thing._

"So what brings you to our side of Minecraftia, stranger?" blonde guy- no, _Brice_  asks.

"Seto."

"Pardon?"

"Sorry, forgot to introduce myself, my name’s Seto."

Seto swears he isn’t looking, but Brice huffs amusedly and he sort of melts at that. “Okay then, what brings you to our side of Minecraftia, Seto?” It gives him barely enough time to remember his supposed backstory, but he manages.

"Dad’s business. We move around a lot,"  _short, clipped, to the point, don’t give too much away_.

"Ah. We know the feeling."

They stay there like that for a while, with Brice asking him questions, Seto answering, and sometimes it’s the other way around, but Brice is looking at Seto and Seto is pretending to watch the team play. It continues for an hour or so, until his phone rudely rings and interrupts them.

"Oh, crap," Seto says once he reads out the text. "I’m sorry, I have to leave," he’s standing up and giving Brice a half-smile - is that a disappointed look in the blonde’s face? holy  _crap_  - and taking his bag and his blazer and cleaning up to leave. He doesn’t know when he’s coming back, but he won’t mind a second time.

"It was nice meeting you," he says after the longest period of silence he’s had the displeasure of having. He gives a polite nod out of habit and walks out of the field.

"It was nice meeting you too, Seto!"

And there’s that warm fuzzy feeling in his chest again. Damn, and he thought he was rid of those butterflies already.


	3. don't you let it go

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by "Enchanted" by Taylor Swift. For anonymous, who requested platonic skymu fluff.

It is very ridiculous, the amount of times Sky sings to Jason at random times every single day without fail. It is also very ridiculous, how Jason doesn’t mind this fact at all.

Jason’s setting up his server, and the builds are too big to take on alone. Rational reaction? Inviting his friends to help him with them. Granted, there’s a lot of gigantic builds, and the team’s spread very thinly amongst them, so Jason - through some twisted sense of fate or something - ends up with Sky.

They’re working on a ballroom-like design as a waiting room for one of the mini games that would be setup there at a later date. They’ve been working on it for a few days, and Jason’s sure his hands are as smooth as the quartz blocks they’re placing.

"Hey, Jason," Sky’s voice echoes throughout the circular build. "Jason, Jason," the butter king pesters, and it breaks Jason’s resolve very very easily.

"Yes, Sky?" Jason asks with a sigh, but it’s an amused sound.

“ _This night is sparkling, don’t you let it go,_ " Sky sings as he flies in the room, stopping from building  _again_ , but the acoustics in the place is good enough for the spaceman to hear him everywhere anyway. “ _I’m wonderstruck, dancing all the way home, I’ll spend forever, wondering if you knew…_ " Sky prolongs the syllable with a riff that most probably isn’t in the actual song.

"Jason,  _I was enchanted to meet you!_ " he belts before fading out.

Sky is so lucky he’s in Creative mode right now, or that anvil Jason let fall on him would’ve hurt really bad.


	4. just rescue me now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by ASFJerome and TheBajanCanadian's Pixelmon series, as well as my own headcanon on it. Title from Matt Nathanson's "I Saw". For the anonymous who originally wanted merome smut, but changed to fluff due to my inability to write it. Sorry again!

It’s in the middle of the night in the Pixelmon server, and Mitch knows Jerome’s already gone to bed hours ago. There’s some advantages to being based in the desert, and it’s mostly the amount of sand someone can play around with when they’re bored. A lot of the Pokémon that usually bother them in broad daylight have moved elsewhere, probably deterred by the bright lights in the Pokemon centre and their own house.

Mitch ponders all this as he walks on the sand in a figure 8 fashion in his pyjamas, sometimes getting his empty pokeballs and enlarging them, though they had no pokemon inside them. He cycles through all of them, an assortment that they made during the daytime, until he happens upon the master ball. Or, more specifically, the master ball he took from Jerome.

He’s still guilty about it, even though the bacca’s told him time and time again that’s it’s okay, and that he’s his biggums. It still eats away at him sometimes, especially when he jokes about using it on a pokemon that probably isn’t worth using it over anyway.

There’s a sound of a Pokemon escaping from its pokeball, and the sound’s so close that he’s sure it was one of his own.

"Oh, hey there Spoon," he acknowledges the Alakazam. "Aren’t you supposed to be asleep in your pokeball?" It’s so odd, talking to a pokemon that you’ve been training with, especially when they’re taller than you are.

 _"Myself and the other pokemon are worried about you, master_ ,” the psychic pokemon projects to him. It’s still such a weird experience, and he’s never really told anyone about it either. “ _You have not been sleeping well, and by extension, we are not either_ ,” Mitch acknowledges this with a furrowed brow and a worried nod.

"I’ll… I’ll try to get some good rest tonight," he says more to himself, rubbing his chin. He knows exactly how to fix this. "I’ll see you tomorrow, along with the other guys. Return," the red beam from the pokeball engulfs the Alakazam and returns it into the sphere. He clips it on to his belt along with the rest of them, and starts climbing up the vines to their house.

He leans on the doorway for a second, sees Jerome - his friend, someone who might as well be the love of his life - and smiles guiltily. The moonlight catches and glints off the dark fur and he’s mesmerised.

Slowly, he unbuckles his pokeball belt and hangs it beside the doorway. They have two beds, but only one is usually ever used for sleeping - if they decide to sleep at all, anyway. He blushes at the implications of that thought, before shrugging and climbing into bed.

"Hey Jerome?" he says quietly, half-hoping his friend hears. "I’m sorry for stealing a lot of the loot that’s supposed to be yours," he apologises. Gently, he lays his head down on top of Jerome’s arm and drapes his left arm over Jerome’s torso, tangling their legs together like they always have.

"Don’t worry about it," Jerome murmurs sleepily, before adjusting to accompany the additional occupant on the bed. Mitch cuddles closer, putting his head above Jerome’s heart and hears him breathe, feels the rise and fall and the vibrations when he says, "I love you, Mitch. I’d give you the world if it makes you happy," and they both drift again.

They all sleep the best sleep in weeks. 


	5. all that counts is here and now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Not really based off of anything, now that I think about it. Title from "Glad You Came" by The Wanted. For the anonymous who wanted SkySolace.

They are drunk. They are drunk and people are stripping and… Sky is pretty fucking hammered right now because people are dancing to loud music and there's lots of moving around and he's sure Jason just got pulled out by Ty and they're up against a wall right now. He'd watch, but he's a sight to see right now with nothing but butter-coloured boxers and an undone polo on and someone else pulling him away and up and up the stairs.

"Let's play spin the bottle!" someone slurs, and everyone's cheering, and he's in a circle with more people who are beet red and probably drunker than he is. Some he recognises - Bodil, Ghost, Quentin, Bashur, Double, Tiffany, Brice, Ian, Ashley, Seto - and there are some he doesn't recognise but they're all in a state of undress and in a circle and- hey Ian's spinning the bottle.

It spins and spins and spins and it gets Sky a little dizzy and _whoa that's really fast_ and then it lands on Double, who's goggly-eyed and they both don't really know what's going on.

_We are going to have the worst hangover ever tomorrow_ , the small, sober part of Sky thinks, which is immediately covered up by the cheers and catcalls when Ian does in fact kiss Double, a light peck on the lips but it rouses a great reaction anyway.

"Your turn!" Double says, raising his arm and pointing around like a turret. Everyone's toppling over each other to avoid the finger's line of sight and… "Ashley!" he exclaims, finger landing on the brunette but only barely.

She looks disgruntled by this, but spins it anyway. Around and around and around, everyone's eyes follow it, until it lands on a nervous-looking Seto. There's a smirk on Ashley's lips as she predatorily walks on all fours to the mage. She whispers something to Seto's ear and then kisses him slow and sweet, and it affects him in a way that it turns the colour of his hair a bright red.

"Woohoo!" they all cheer, as Ashley returns to her spot.

This time, it's Ashley who picks (as Seto is still preoccupied…) and she lazily flicks her fingers at Sky's direction. "Sky, it's your turn!"

Someone hands him the bottle and he's pretty sure he's doing it all wrong, but the green-tinted glass bottle goes spinning anyway. It doesn't last long, but his eyes follow the narrow tip as it spun… and landed on Brice.

Much like Sky, Brice is more or less a sight to see as well, not much left to the imagination other than boxers and a mismatched pair of socks. And like what happened earlier, Brice is smirking as he makes his way to Sky. "C'mere, big boy," Sky teases, going backwards and away from the circle until he's hit the wall, and people are cheering even though nothing's happened.

They're breathing heavily, Sky can smell the mix of alcohol from both their breaths, and he can see in the darkness the dilated pupils. Their kiss is rough, a clashing of teeth and booze and tongues, at one point Sky's pulled in closer by the collar, the shirt's going to be ruined but he doesn't really mind at all- more cheering occurs until they realise the two aren't stopping anytime soon. The game picks up again, and he doesn't really mind it going without him.

"Holy shit, Brice," Sky says once they pull free for air. "Fuck."

The Australian lets go of his collar. "You could say that again," he's breathing heavily too, pressing his forehead on Sky's.

Sky stares at the bruised lips and licks his own, red and battered and bruised. "Fuck."

"So we're playing that game now, eh?" Sky doesn't have the time to reply when he's pulled in again and and and- and he doesn't really mind.


	6. explanation for a life half-broken away

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Inspired by ice rinks. For kurumaka, who had a request for TrueCanadian. Title from "Shasta (Carrie's Song)" by Vienna Teng.

Mitch doesn’t expect Jason’s reaction when he brings the alien to an ice rink. He also didn’t expect the fact that no one bat an eyelash to the suited man who is suddenly skating with them without any sort of roller-skate on.

"Oh, we have these on my home planet!" Jason had said before suddenly taking off into the ice.

"Jay- Jason!" Mitch calls out to him now, but he can’t just run into the rink without slipping on his butt and being told off for walking on ice without the proper gear. "Jeez, are aliens always this hasty?" he mutters to himself as he pays to rent a pair of ice skates.

Soon enough, Mitch hits the ice as well. It’s a surprisingly big rink, and he doesn’t spot Jason right away. The canadian warms up by doing a round or two around edges where most of the children clung to with their big coats and long scarves. He’s aware of his increasingly pink cheeks because of the drop in temperature, but this is one of the few places where he feels that he is in his element, so he carries on ahead.

"Found you!" he exclaims when the alien is in sight, making what seems to be complicated patterns out of ice, etched and shaved kind alike. Mitch nearly tackles Jason, and they both fall onto their butts anyway.

"Hey!" the translator distorts for a bit because of the impact, and it’s so weird hearing what sounds like a human voice talk an alien language. They both stand, awkward and slightly hobbling to the edge of the rink to find something stationary to hang on to.

"You don’t just take off into the rink like that!" Mitch berates him, waving his hands and nearly, nearly losing his balance again, were it not for Jason holding him steady with a hand on his waist.

"Hey lovebirds!" the two look at a random stranger who shouts at them. Curly hair, gold amulet, and black jacket that screams ‘douchebag’ clasps his hands and puts it around his mouth. "Keep the quarrelling off the rink!"

Mitch looks at the guy weirdly before shaking his head and looking at Jason again. “Just… don’t be so hasty sometimes, okay?”

Jason nods slowly. “Okay,” and slowly takes his hand off Mitch’s waist. He’s trying very hard to convince himself that he doesn’t like it and he doesn’t want it and he doesn’t miss it. Nope, not in the very least.

They do a few rounds on their own until Mitch is fighting the tremors on his body just to get to Jason. “J-J-J-Jay,” he says, putting his hands on Jason’s shoulders, hoping the alien gets what he’s saying before he falls again. “W-w-w-e need t-to leave n-n-n-n-ow.”

"No problem!" Jason says nonchalantly and skates them both off the rink, with Mitch behind him, hands on his waist.

They go to a cafe near the rink, warm and cozy, and two hot chocolates making fog gather up on the glass panes. “Why were you doing that thing with your consonants there earlier?” Jason asks out of the blue.

Mitch reaches out for his hot chocolate before answering. “That, Jason, is called stuttering. It can happen either by genetics or by a sudden drop in body temperature. I don’t know what you guys have in those suits,” he eyes the blue outfit for a moment. “But we humans don’t normally shield ourselves from the cold or heat with advanced technology. We leave that to the spacemen.”

"Spacemen are like me, correct?" Jason asks, unconsciously putting his hand on the logo on the front of where his pockets are supposed to be.

"Yup!" Mitch replies, blowing on the hot chocolate to let off a bit of the heat. "So we have this tendency to be more susceptible to body temperature change because - well, we aren’t as protected. I’m used to going out with my regular clothes in the cold with not much but a jacket, but even I have my limits."

Jason doesn’t speak for a while, which gives Mitch enough time to drink his hot chocolate. “Yeah, it says here! Homo sapiens sapiens have a regular body temperature of 36 to 37 degrees celsius, and effects of sudden changes in body temperature can cause harmful and even destructive effects on their body.”

Sometimes Mitch wonders why he even bothers domesticating the alien, and then he remembers a few of the incidents that have happened when he left him alone in the house with nothing but that damn encyclopaedia for company.  _Chaos_.

The sudden brush of rough material brings Mitch back to the real world, nearly spilling the hot beverage on him. “Whoa!”

"I’m sorry," the alien says, withdrawing his hand. "Your body temperature still isn’t in the normal range, just a few centidegrees shy of 36."

"No, no, it’s okay," Mitch puts down his hot chocolate. "I can return to my regular body temperature on my own, it’s a gradual process."

"But it’s my fault you’ve had to wait around for me for a few more minutes than your body could handle! Just give me your hand," Jason pleads, stretching out his own. "Please, I want to be able to do something right, for once."

Mitch thinks about it for a moment or two before finally placing his own hand on the glove-like appendage of the suit. He looks outside the window and then suddenly hears whirrs and a ‘shhhick’ of what could be- a surge of warmth courses through his body. Jason lets his hand fall limp on the table.

"Wha- what did you do?" Mitch looks at his hand, long enough for the glass guard on the suit to reestablish itself again.

Jason’s comms reestablish as well, the tail end of a cough making its way though a speaker. “I… in your human terms, kissed your hand. You seemed to produce the right reaction to it, so,” he exhaled. “I made the liberties.”

"Produced the right reaction to-… Oh, okay," Mitch freezes up for a moment.

"Did I do something wrong?"

"No, no you didn’t, it’s just…- nothing. I think that hot chocolate is cold enough to drink, you should try it."

Jason's looking at the cup as if it was something he hadn't seen before, and Mitch looks out the window to contemplate on what the alien's action implicated to him.. He’s falling in love with the freaking alien isn’t he? _Dang it. God-dang it._ Just his freaking luck, eh?


End file.
